


Extra time

by CrazyChicken



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyChicken/pseuds/CrazyChicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless victory smut after the CL quarter-final against Malaga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extra time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bluemadistra for betareading!

Never had their veins been so filled with adrenaline. Never had every moment, every smile, every touch felt so great. Never had the fans screamed this loud. It felt like everything was new; brilliant and perfect and once-in-a-lifetime, because that’s what it feels like to win against the odds in extra time. Like the ambiance in the locker room had never been this electrical, explosive. Like they had never been this happy before.

They were still yelling, jumping, shouting, singing, screaming, laughing, and dancing when they left the building. Some went to Robert’s to throw a little party, others just stayed in the streets to party, or went home to sleep (because after all, tomorrow they would just have training), but Marco and Mario were headed to Marco’s apartment in his car. Mario was driving, because Marco could barely keep his eyes on the road. He was drunk with the feeling of victory and being a (off-side) part of that victory. He was also drunk with lust, looking at Mario’s muscled arms and the way his hands clenched around the steering wheel. It was all too much to handle.

His moves slow and careful, he leaned to his left, bit Mario’s shoulder and dropped his hand in his lap without a warning, causing the car to slip to the side.

“Fuck, Marco, I’m driving,” Mario shouted, but he wasn’t all that angry. Marco could feel him harden through his pants, could hear his breath quicken, could hear his heartbeat become louder, not just with shock, but with lust too.

“But you were so good tonight, baby,” Marco breathed loudly in his ear, while massaging Mario through the fabric of his pants. “So _fucking_ good,” he added in soft whispering words. The raw way he stressed the word ‘fucking’ made something twitch between Mario’s legs. _God no. We’re not even close to the house._

“Save yourself for the bed,” Mario mumbled quickly, but his voice betrayed him. Waiting was the hardest thing to do for him too. Marco could hear it, see it, feel it, so instead of backing away, he pulled the zipper down on Mario’s pants in one quick movement.

Mario’s head screamed ‘no’ for several reasons, the main one being the safety, but his body screamed ‘yes’ a lot louder, so he gave in and only sighed when Marco’s fingers touched his bare skin. He stroked him, tentatively, slow and fast and all at once.

Mario was just starting to think he could get used to this, to this weird, yet acceptable combination of driving and sex, when Marco leaned his head down into his crotch and they shot over the white lines once again.

“Marco, stop!” he shouted immediately. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but it was an awfully hard task to do.

“Okay,” Marco said, simply. He redressed Mario and sat back straight, staring at the road as if nothing had happened. Of course he didn’t voluntarily stop, but the tease was worth it; Mario’s expression was priceless.

“Fuck you,” Mario mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Nah,” Marco played. “I think I’m going to fuck you tonight.”

It didn’t make the situation any better, Mario revised, and he swore: never had any ride home taken this long.

\--

Incoherent swear words flew across the room and clothes followed soon after. They hadn’t even taken the time to properly turn on the lights. Mario had reached for some light switch while Marco was dragging him along, but it had only resolved into more stumbling. Dortmund’s night lights outside lit up the room a bit, but it was too dark to see more than the approximate direction of the bed. Which, if you think about it, was the only thing they needed to see.

“You can do it now,” Mario panted as he was pushed down on the bed. Marco quickly took his pants and boxers off together in one movement. “What you wanted to do in the car,” Mario added, instructively shifting his hips.

“You wish,” Marco replied, hastily removing the last pieces of his own clothing and throwing them aside. “Your body is mine now.”

Mario knew he tried to sound possessive, but he failed enormously, because no matter how kinky Marco tried to be, he was just too lovely. His attempt, however, might have made Mario laugh if they hadn’t been naked, if they hadn’t just won an incredible match, if his lover wasn’t grinding their hips together.

Marco’s fingers wandered down the front of his body while his mouth was on his neck, licking along the fine skin. Mario swore he would have been fine with staying like this forever, all goose bumps and moans and Marco’s hot body all over his. But when his lover’s hand locked around his cock, he couldn’t really complain either.

Digging his fingers into Marco’s upper arms, he softly whispered his name. He knew exactly what would happen now, what Marco was after; they had been there so many times. A few more strokes to tease him (or please him, he still wasn’t sure) before he moved to enter him with one finger, two fingers, stretching, scissoring, twitching. When it’s been such a long time as it was now, it would be painful at first, but then Marco would find his spot and drive him crazy and all Mario could do was beg for more, for _him_ , and Marco would smile cheekily, giving him what he wanted, what they both wanted.

He didn’t disappoint him this time; everything happened exactly according to the script. (Although the pain was always a bit worse than he remembered, but the reward was always a bit better too.) And when Mario groaned ‘just fuck me already’ and Marco gladly obeyed, it was just the same old story over again, but it was good. It was like putting your favourite song on repeat.

Marco made sure he filled Mario completely before he started his thrusts, slow and careful at first, but then faster and more reckless, soon becoming out of control altogether. When Marco moved down to kiss his lover and whispered a few dirty things in his ear, it was his body speaking in the rush of the moment. He nibbled on Mario’s earlobe and the latter bucked up his hips, in search of the right angle. When they found it, Mario wrapped his legs around Marco’s waist and locked them there, and they gained a new rhythm of quick and steady thrusts.

The room was filled with familiar sounds. Skin slapping against skin, loud breaths and moans, swears and names, the cracking of the bed, low mumbles and sighs, and bells ringing in their ears.

Speechless as Mario had become, he could only mumble a staccato ‘clo-ose’ as his face grew more and more red. The sight of his ecstatic looking boyfriend could have sent Marco over the edge any second, but he wanted to wait a little bit longer, so he slowed down his rhythm a bit, placing a long, slow series of wet kissing on Mario’s chest. The latter groaned in frustration, which was Marco’s cue to continue. Taking Mario’s hard cock in his right hand, he picked up the pace again. It was unbalanced and tired, like it was the ninetieth minute of a football game and both teams were exhausted. He could feel himself coming closer to the edge and with one last deep thrust he brought both of them to a loud and messy climax.

Marco fell down on top of his lover and they panted together for minutes. They felt like they had the right to catch their breaths after running around like crazy for ninety minutes, followed by a midnight workout.

Mario was the first to speak up. “That was great,” he said quietly, reaching for the tissues on the bedside table to clean up his own mess, but Marco slapped his hands away and ran his fingers across the white drops on his stomach.

“You always say that after I fuck you,” he laughed, bringing his fingers to his own mouth.

“That’s because it _is_ always great.”

They snuggled up Marco’s bed and pulled the blankets up to their faces, too tired to put on clothes. Mario turned around so Marco could wrap his arms around him from behind.

“You know,” Marco hummed against his neck. “I knew you’d let me fuck you if I scored.”

Mario laughed. “Then why did it take you so long?”

“Just teasing,” Marco replied, closing his eyes. He wanted this moment to last forever, but he could barely fight against the sleep anymore.

“I would have let you anyway.” Mario yawned. “Even if we lost.”

“I know,” Marco whispered against his skin, but he didn’t get any reply except the slightly louder breath that signalled Mario was asleep. He held him a little tighter and smiled. He swore that he had never been this happy before.


End file.
